


Bringing Sexy Bach & All that Treble

by LadyMD



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Jon is a pianist, Jon takes matters into his own hands, Music Majors, No actual baby grand piano was destroyed in the making, Oneshot, Private concert, Sansa is a cellist, fluff and slight smut, music room shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-04-03 16:49:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14000409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMD/pseuds/LadyMD
Summary: His fingers skim nimbly across the ebony and ivory piano keys while hers pluck and fiddle against the strings of her cello while Bach flows first vivace, then adagio, and finally allegro to fill the music room they've reserved for rehearsals. All the while, their bodies singing for a different kind of music, and Jon has had enough pining.Song they're rehearsing: Bach's Sonata in G Minor, BWV 1029





	Bringing Sexy Bach & All that Treble

**Author's Note:**

> I needed a mental break from hospital life so I've gone back to another love of my life. Music. Also, I miss my piano. I hope you like it. I don't even know. Hahahaha

There was only so much that Jon could take. 

There she was again with her long clever fingers pressing against the strings, her other hand curled elegantly on the bow as she moved it back and forth. He tried not to be jealous of a piece of wood as he stared at the large redwood cello cradled between her creamy long legs for days while her face -  _gods her face -_ her eyes were closed shut, long lashes brushed against her sharp cheeks while there was a quiver between her brows as she concentrated, her delicate mouth slightly parted as  _Bach_ flowed from her fingers like waves that crashed powerfully against you with each damn passionate note. 

_Gods._

What Jon would do to feel those nimble fingers dance on his skin, those long legs cradling  _him_  against her - seven hells his body would sing and chant nothing but her name. 

_Sansa._

Sansa, Sansa,  _Sansa._

Crescendo. A gradual climb then peak and sustain.

Forte.  _For-te. **FORTE.**_

His mind would urge him.

Sansa.  _San-sa. **SANSA.**_  

And he'd swear, in turn to make her give him that same enraptured expression she always had when she plays, using his fingers, his tongue, his cock - if she'd let him, he'd make her body sing his name too. 

So when the opportunity came when she needed an accompanist for her recital, Jon fought tooth and nail to make sure no one but him would get the opportunity. If that meant bribery, threats, and begging - _so be it._

Sansa Stark was  _his._

Or she will be.

...If she wants to that is. 

He swallows and starts his pep talk all over again.

Now was not the time to be a wuss. It was, as Theon and Tormund said, about time to just nut up and do something before someone else makes Sansa unavailable again. _He's waited a whole damn year._   

And here they were, on their second week of making sweet music together, his fingers on the keys of the baby grand, lending all support for her powerful playing when all he'd wanted was his fingers working somewhere else for her and together they'd  _sing._

Oh how sweet it would be to hear his name pour out from those lips with the same variation of  _Sonata in G Minor._

They've had enough of a  _vivace_ introduction if he wasn't just imagining the light flirting they've started. 

_This was it._

With one last deep breath, he emerged from the corner he was hiding, checked back to make sure that he locked the door, and went to walk behind her quietly and slowly. He bit his lip to keep from groaning as she was, as usual, too engrossed in her playing to notice he had come in, too focused on her perfect playing.

Slowly he sidled up behind her, almost groaning again at the peek of skin from her bared shoulder, a constellation of freckles dotting the top, he wished to trace with his tongue, while her long, silky red hair was loose and hanging over the other shoulder that his hands itched to wrap around. 

He wanted to touch her but not yet. He wanted her to come to him. 

He coughed once to alert his presence, chuckled when she hit a sharp from being startled and there they were - the bluest eyes he's ever seen, blinking at him in surprise before her face broke into an embarrassed grin, her cheeks turning pink as she looked at him sheepishly, rendering him speechless for a moment. 

"Sorry. Were you standing there for long, Jon?"

He blinked and gathered his wits. Coughing once more to drown out the growl that almost came out from the sweet way she said his name. "No. I just got here," he lied, smiling back.

Sansa seemed to buy it as she nodded at him, waiting. And there Jon noticed something was off with her from the way her eyes looked suddenly far away, her fingers fidgeted around the bow and her cello as she hugged them to her, the tiniest pucker between her brows gave her away the most. 

"What's wrong?"

She blinked, caught herself before she laughed nervously, a lock of her hair falling from her ear that she quickly tucked back in before he could even offer to do so himself. "The recital is so near, I just realized. I'm a little nervous," she bit her lip and Jon had never seen a more endearing sight. 

He took one of the stools and sat in front of her, taking one of her hands in his, giving it a squeeze when she didn't protest. "You have no reason to be. Seven hells, I'm the one who  _should_ be nervous. I don't want to ruin this for you." 

She shook her head furiously and squeezed his hand back, the actions making his heart do things. "You're wonderful." 

He sucked in a breath and colored then colored some more when her own cheeks started flushing prettily as she caught her words. "I mean, you're an excellent partner." 

He smiled slowly and took a deep breath before speaking. "You make it easy to blend my music with yours," he looked at her, half hoping, half shaking. 

She ducked her chin and looked away then, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. "The credit goes to you. You seem to know how best to support my playing. You make me play more confidently," she confessed in an almost whisper. "Thank you for agreeing to be my accompanist. I'm glad it's you."

His heart almost stopped then before it pounded quickly just as soon. He moved closer, held her gaze as he reached out to take her face in his hand, the corners of his lips quirked up when she let him.

"No. The pleasure is all mine," he might've said a little more gruffly than intended, making her gasp - the sound going like a bolt through his hyper aware body.

He caressed her face with his thumb and he felt her lashes as she leant closer to his touch and shivered. 

_She wants this too._

_"Sansa."_

Her eyes fluttered open in question. 

"May I kiss you?" 

Another wave of heat on his face as she nodded demurely, her face tilting up slightly and Jon could hardly believe this was happening. He closed their distance, cradling her face as he kissed her at last. A gasp and a groan escaping them as they pulled away in shock before fusing their mouths together once more. 

_Gods._

It was better than he'd imagined. 

She was soft everywhere. 

He wanted  _more._

But he would take his time.  

 _Adagio._ Like the second variation of their song. Never mind that his body was thrumming to move faster and harder after a year of watching her from afar. He forced himself to remember that this was always about her and not his base needs. Slowly and gently he touched, senses trained to her every reaction.

 Just as he'd imagined, she started soft and shy,  _pianissimo_ like the perfect lady she was. She's trying to control herself but it only drove Jon to be bolder.

He'd give her so much pleasure, she won't be able to control herself. This was a _promise._

But first.

Slowly he pulled away to look at her, make sure this was something far more than just lust. 

He wants her, yes.

But not just for a moment, a day, a week. 

He wanted her always.

All of her.

"Sansa," he whispered, almost groaned, when he caught how her eyes were half-lidded and glazed, her face leaning the slightest bit forward as if chasing him. 

"Jon," she breathed out. 

"Sansa I--"

"Jon I have to--"

"No you go first."

"No, go ahead!"

They both laughed then, both of them smiling tenderly but the heat was still there.

"Jon?" she tilted her head and searched his eyes. 

He swallowed and waited.

Her smile vanished while she looked at him intensely that he almost panicked at the look that resembled regret in her eyes. 

She bit her lip then, ducking her head as she placed a hand on his chest. "I had seriously hoped you'd accompany me. I'd have chosen you no matter who else tried."

Jon swore his heart stopped while his mouth hung. 

When he didn't say anything - he couldn't, half-convinced this was just a dream, her eyes lifted back at him. "I chose that piece so someone would play with me...play the piano specifically because you play that and...just..." she said carefully. "I wanted it to be you. If there was the smallest chance you'd--"

Jon crashed his lips against hers then and brought her impossibly closer, words pouring out in between kisses to her lips, her cheeks, her nose, her throat. "You could've just asked. I had to beat a lot of hopefuls--"

She kissed him back just as fervently, her hands clutching at his shirt as she panted her answers. "I didn't think you'd be interested. You never said anything. You  _never_ talk to me." 

He shook his head against her neck. "I didn't know how."

He felt her laugh then and he couldn't help but smile against her skin. "I was interested since last year, you have no idea."

She gasped. "But--"

He sighed. "I know. I'm shite at this."

She laughed again. "Well... we're here now."

He pulled away to look at her, his hands cupping her face. "Aye, we're here now."

They grinned at each other for a beat until they felt the spark between them once more. 

He tilted his head.

She nodded.

Pages of sheet music flew, the sound of objects crashing on the floor, as Jon backed Sansa up against the baby grand, knocking everything down as they made out against the piano. 

With one hand, Jon pulled the top board prop, the lid snapped loudly as it fell shut, another loud thump as he easily lifted Sansa's body up against the now closed lid, her heeled foot dropping on the keys causing dissonant chords that made her eyes fly open in panic, her hands on his shoulders ready to push him away.

But Jon just laughed against her shoulder and kept her still but gently. "Don't worry about it. If we destroy it, I'll have my father replace it. It's the  _least_ Rhaegar could do for me." He rolled his eyes at the thought of his asshole father. 

She still looked unsure as she bit her lip, looking enticing once more that Jon had to kiss her again. 

So he did. 

More dissonant chords bounced off the acoustic walls mixed with broken breaths and escaped moans as Jon, standing in between her legs, pulled her closer, one leg wrapped around his torso while the other still dangled over the keys, her heel bouncing as they both ground their hips together while their lips explored every sliver of skin exposed. 

A loud thud followed by the steady clicking of the fallen metronome at 150bpm that made both of them pause for a moment before they both grinned wickedly at each other as they hastened their actions, clothes flying everywhere while hips thrusted in tempo with the fast swinging pendulum. 

"Jon."

She sang.

 _"Jo-o-n,"_ she sang some more. 

 _"San-sa,"_ he sang in reply.

 

 _"Oh Jon,"_ she moaned and Jon never heard a more beautiful sound that he redoubled his efforts, her lovely arpeggios climbing octaves he's never heard before turning into staccatos as he moved faster.

"J-Jon, Jon, Jon..."

His answering groan of her name was just as loud and broken. 

And then he saw it. 

That same face she has when she's in one of her trance like state when she's nearing the end of her performance. One of complete rapture that he swears at any moment the room shall be filled with applause from yet another-

_"Oh Gods."_

-yet another

"Ungh."

Standing.

_"Jon!"_

_"Sansa!"_

Ovation.

A beat. 

And only the sound of the still clicking metronome was heard over their heavy breathing as they collapsed into each other sated on top of the baby grand that was now displaced shockingly near the wall from its true place in the center. 

Jon pulled back and looked down at her, waiting until she opened her eyes and met his gaze. He brushed her cheeks with his thumbs and kissed her forehead, earning him a shy smile as she twined her arms behind his neck. 

"Wow," was all he could say. 

Sansa giggled but suddenly shy again she ducked her head against the crook of his neck. "Oh Gods. That happened."

Jon chuckled, kissed her bare shoulder and stood up, pulling his pants up before helping Sansa down.  

He caught her before she tripped, her knees still wobbly that Jon couldn't hide the proud look on his face only to feel Sansa slightly shove him. "Don't be too smug."

Jon chuckled and nuzzled her neck. "Sorry, well, not really." 

Sansa tugged at his hair from the nape of his neck then from where her hands were twined.

That only made him kiss her again. 

When he pulled away, he cradled her face and smiled when she sighed, shook her head, and smiled brightly at him. She looked away briefly and gasped when she saw the state of the room. 

Jon followed her gaze and started laughing, earning a slap on his chest. 

Aside from the displaced piano, sheet music was everywhere, his shirt was on top of her cello while the metronome was still clicking on its side, with Sansa's tiny lacy blue underwear swinging with the pendulum back and forth. 

"Oh Gods!" 

Sansa practically shoved him to grab it but he was too fast, grabbed it first and pocketed it. "Ah, I'll be keeping this. Thanks." He winked at her. 

She rolled her eyes before shaking her head as she continued surveying the room. 

He walked over to the piano and checked it. Aside from a few scratches, it was fine. He couldn't help but smirk when he started pushing the piano back to the center and snapping the lid back up.

"I wonder if Rhaegar would let me keep this one," he muttered aloud.

Sansa's head snapped to him then, looking scandalized that he had to laugh. "Or lets just keep it here. Every time we see other people using it, I'll just imagine the best music played _on_ it."

"The best music? Really?" 

Jon skimmed the keys. "The best," he repeated, replaying the sounds he made Sansa make in his head.

"Hmm... then I should find out if my cello played its best too. Don't you think?" 

"Wha-" But Jon didn't get to finish his question. The moment he turned around his jaw fell to the floor as his eyes bulged from seeing Sansa  _naked_ with only her cello covering her as she looked at him challengingly. 

"We only have half an hour of rehearsal time left, Jon Snow. I suggest you accompany me  _now._ "

Jon didn't need to be told twice, his mind already racing with a hundred more ways to make Sansa Stark sing for him. 

 

 


End file.
